You'll Understand

This, at least, you’ll understand: I act upon my mind’s command. And it reminds my seething heart, of other men you’ve torn apart. I do not say that you are cruel, though I fear you live without a rule, and do not move to curb your p’wr, over us—so in the hour, of greatest plight, we lose our sight, and our wills crumble from your might. You, by glancing sight disarm, the best defense, and then you harm, tempting by your wordless ways, illusions crafted to amaze, the hearts of men, and then we sin, trying to take your hand again. You do not want us, it is true, you must not see how we want you, or else you let us burn within, and watch with eyes too cold to win. Forgive me then, I seek to live, not pour my soul into a sieve, for you to drink in your own time. I will not let you break my rhyme. 1 June 2016